


Desperate

by MauveYarn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, M/M, Masturbation, Urination, Watersports, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 13:06:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveYarn/pseuds/MauveYarn
Summary: "The chances of you being able to 'hold it' until this weather system has passed and we are able to transport to the ship are negligible."Spock helps Jim, then helps himself.





	Desperate

"I'm so, so incredibly sorry," Jim groaned miserably from beneath his arm. Spock found the human instinct to hide one's face during embarrassing moments exceedingly pointless, yet oddly endearing in his captain. He'd found Jim to be the exception to many of his previously-unshakeable opinions. The fact no longer bothered him. It had been several months since he had accepted this illogicality in himself.

"Apology is unnecessary." Spock carefully unfastened the catch on Jim's pants. "Your injury restricts your movements. This is a logical alternative."

Jim's thighs tensed again and he whimpered. The sound echoed in the cave where they had taken refuge from the downpour outside. "I would hold it if I could, I swear."

"The chances of you being able to 'hold it' until this weather system has passed and we are able to transport to the ship are negligible." Spock shook open the empty emergency rations pouch. Gently, he touched Jim's hip, giving him a moment's notice before he drew the band of Jim's briefs down far enough that he could take his penis in hand.

Jim whimpered again. The hand over his face clenched into a fist. "So, so sorry."

"Hush. I am prepared. You may urinate now."

Jim wheezed in a combination of laughter and a relieved gust of air as his body relaxed. Spock could feel the slight movements of Jim's release through the thin skin of his penis as the urine was expelled. It was unexpectedly intimate; moreso than simply holding Jim's sex.

Feeling Jim's body working in his hands had another unexpected consequence. Spock could feel his own body responding. As the ration bag in his left hand grew heavy, he could feel his sheath begin to warm and swell. He closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to settle his body, but at that moment, Jim groaned loudly in relieved pleasure and it was all Spock could do to keep his penis from sliding between the swollen folds to emerge completely.

Trying not to move unnecessarily, Spock waited until the last streams of Jim's urine had filled the bag. He set it aside in order to tuck Jim carefully back into his clothing, then retrieved it.

The bag was warm and malleable. Spock clamped the folds of his sheath desperately around the emerging tip of his penis.

"I will... dispose of this," Spock murmured. To his ears, his voice was thick and unsteady, the desperation of his sudden arousal shamefully obvious. He could only hope that Jim's current state rendered him less observant than usual. What would the captain think of him?

"Thanks, Spock," he said weakly, relaxing back against the ground. He closed his eyes and let out a relieved breath.

Spock rose carefully, holding the full bag with one hand, cupping the other beneath it, feeling the body-warm weight of it filling his palm. His penis emerged further.

Instead of going to the cave's mouth and outside, Spock retreated further into the structure, slipping behind a rock wall and away from Jim's view. He continued for two more turns of the tunnel, far enough, he believed, that any noise he might make would be inaudible from Jim's position.

He leaned back against the glinting stones and buried his own distant appalled disbelief at his own behaviour. With one hand, he opened his uniform pants and reached into his regulation undergarment to release his engorged penis. He was fully erect, the ridges flared and tender for want of stimulation. For the moment, he refrained.

Reverently, he reached into the bag with his left hand and touched his fingertips to the surface of the warm liquid. With an unsteady breath, he submerged his hand to the palm. His penis throbbed heavily and around its base, the parted folds of his sheath swelled. A trickle of his own fluid escaped to run down his thigh.

Holding the bag upright in his right hand, he curled his left around himself in a light hold. He couldn't stop the low sound the touch provoked, and leaned his head against the wall behind him, mouth open to quiet his panting breaths.

He closed his eyes and ran his wet hand up his length, paused to rub his thumb between the ridges, then cupped his palm over the head. He squeezed lightly, stroking his fingertips over the small opening, imagining his captain's fluid mixing with his own. His penis throbbed again at the image and he inhaled sharply.

Eyes still closed, he sank his hand into the bag to the wrist. He pulled it out, dripping, and thrust it into his undergarment, reaching below his penis to rub roughly at his swollen sheath. His voice caught on a moan. Eagerly, he ground his palm against the wet folds, hips stuttering forward to increase the pressure. His own lubricant was now seeping steadily.

He pulled his hand away to wet it again, then transferred the ration bag to his left hand so that he could coat his right hand as well. His hands were lukewarm and slippery and the scent surrounded him, nearly covering that of his own arousal. He let the bag fall to the floor, Jim's urine pooling near his feet.

He pushed both hands into his clothing, rubbing Jim's scent over his own genitals, reveling in his own decadence. Held up only by the wall behind him, he trembled and strained into his own slick hands.

Finally, he sank two fingers into his neglected sheath, and gasped as it contracted, spasming around them. Lost, Spock fucked himself roughly, whining in pleasure.

This fluid from Jim's body - from his penis - was now inside Spock's own body, slicking him, warming him, marking him. _Jim has been here._

With a choked cry, Spock gripped his erection as it jerked, spilling ejaculate over his hand while the fingers of his other hand worked furiously inside him, bringing him to a shuddering, gasping climax.

When the rolling waves of pleasure released him, he slumped back, the fabric of his uniform shirt catching on the wall as he slid down to sit heavily on his heels.

He sucked in long, deep breaths as his body cooled, until his penis had subsided enough that it could slip back into his pleasantly aching sheath.

Finally, he felt steady enough to straighten and leave his hiding place. Strangely, he was not overcome with self-disgust or regret as he might have thought. He would allow himself this; it was done. He could wash in the rain brought by the storm. Jim need never know.

***

"I don't know which one of you looked worse," McCoy grumbled three days later during the midshift meal. "You, covered in blood with cave mold in your hair, or the hobgoblin, lookin' like he'd been through the spin cycle and left to wrinkle on the floor." Jim laughed around a mouthful of replicated macaroni and cheese. "Close your mouth when you eat, you damn reprobate. I've already had to teach table manners to a six-year-old, I don't need-"

Spock ignored the doctor, occupied with his own meal and his thoughts of a shared washroom and what opportunities such a thing could present.


End file.
